“It was nothing. I didn’t mind helping at all. I knew you couldn’t get him home and to bed by yourself.”
Stepping out of his arms, Mal eyes were bright and earnest. “That’s not the help I’m talking about. I meant what you did after you left my house last night. Going over to Dad’s to babysit him through the night.”
“Oh, that.”
She tipped her head and shot him a yeah that look. “I went by his house on my way to the shop this morning to make sure he was still alive. He was up, dressed, and had packed a bag. He checked himself into rehab this morning. Said you’d talked to him about taking the step himself and not making me force him into it. I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you were there for him. For me.”
“You had your hands full with Gaby last night. Sleeping on his couch to see him through the night wasn’t any trouble. Whenever my roommate drank heavily, about four hours after he’d passed out, he’d come roaring back, desperate for a taste to curb the pain as withdrawal started. I figured it would be the same for Ben. You did a good job finding all his bottles. I chased him around the house while he searched.”
“I’ve had years of practice.” She sighed as she walked to the sofa on the side of his office and lowered herself onto it. She took off her heavy red coat and laid it along the back of the couch. Leaning forward, she propped her elbows on her knees, then cupped her chin in her upraised hands. “I was afraid of what I’d find when I went back this morning. I think he might have searched again after you left. The kitchen was a mess.”
He lounged against the edge of his desk, leaning his hands on the surface. “Damn, I thought he was okay when I left. I’d have stayed longer.”
“You did more than I asked of you.” Flicking her eyes toward him, then away, she shook her head. “Did you get everything fixed here? With your emergency?”
He opened his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by a knock on the door. “Come in.”
“Checking out for the night, Gunnar.” George opened the door and popped his head in. Catching sight of Mal, his eyes widened, and a broad grin spread over his face. “Hey, gorgeous. I didn’t know you were here.”
He stepped into the room and crossed to the sofa. Malin rose as he approached, a warm smile on her lush lips. George engulfed her in a bear hug.
“Lady, when are you going to ditch your life of drudgery in the wonderful world of flowers and run away with me to the Pacific Northwest? You’ve been promising you’d do it forever.” He gave her a resounding smooch on the cheek.
What the hell? How many friends did the woman have? First Noah, now George? Gunnar fought against the jealousy that bloomed like a road-side flare. Tension rose up his spine. He shoved away from the desk and waited for George to release his woman. Yes, dammit. Mal was his woman, and he was done putting up with her other friends.
“Well, George, you just haven’t asked me the right way yet. You know I can be convinced.” Malin scrubbed her hand over George’s shiny bald head.
“We leave tomorrow then.” George’s laugh boomed.
“Sounds like a solid plan. Oh wait. Valentine’s Day is coming up soon. Someone has to arrange those flowers you ordered for your mom.” Mal stepped arm’s length away and grinned.
“Damn, it sucks to be crushing on the cutest florist in town this time of year.”
“Did you need anything, George?” Gunnar demanded, eager to make the man leave.
Mal’s gaze flew to his. She had the same guilty look on her face as she’d had this morning when he’d questioned her about Noah. But, there was something else. Anger? Really? He pulled his gaze away from her to focus on George.
Who’d returned to his usual business demeanor. “Nah. Everything is set for tomorrow. I had to put out the last of our back stock of towels today. We’ll need to order more soon.”
Gunnar pressed his lips together. Towels seemed to disappear as quickly as his money these days. Damn Michael Braithwaite. He was almost as mad at George as he was at Michael.
Ah, crap, now he was just being a dick. George was a good guy. He didn’t deserve to be the object of Gunnar’s anger. He eased a smattering of friendly into his tone. “I’ll place an order on Monday.”
George nodded. “Okay. You going to be here much longer?” He glanced at Mal.
Why the hell did he keep looking at Malin?
“Don’t know.” Her tone came out a little frosty.
George paused, squinted at Gunnar, then shrugged. “I’ll turn off the overhead lights on my way out. Building is clear except for you two. I’ll lock the front entrance behind me. Good night, Mal.”
Gunnar stopped him as he turned to leave. “George? Thanks for the help today. I’ll see you Monday.”
“Sure thing.” George waved over his shoulder as he left the room. The door clicked shut behind him.
“What the hell, Gunnar?” Mal’s tone was incredulous. “What was that all about?”
Chapter 17
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Her shoulders knotted with his denial. He damn well did know what she meant. “George is a great guy. Why did you talk to him like—”
“Like what, Malin? How did I talk to him?”
“Like you were closer to firing him than promoting him. Was he the cause of your emergency today?”
“No.”
His tone was tense, like the set of his shoulders. She didn’t know what was bothering him, but he sure as hell didn’t need to be such a jerk. George hadn’t deserved to be shoved into the awkward situation between them.
Struggling for calm, she ordered her muscles to relax. “Well, something crawled up your ass and burrowed in. Come on, Gunnar, tell me what’s wrong.”
The overhead lights shut down with a pop, leaving only the dimmest illumination from the sconces strategically placed around the gym. Strips of light filtered through the blinds that lined the glass wall of Gunnar’s office. He reached over and jerked the chain on the Mission-style lamp on his desk. The muted light cast shadows across the planes and hollows of his face.
“You sure you want to know?” Gunnar drew a deep breath, pinning a hard stare on her face. When she nodded, he continued. “I’m pissed off the man kissed you.”
“Gunnar, I kiss a lot of my guy friends. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Looked like you enjoyed it. You laughed it up with George and offered to run away with him.” He crossed his arm over his chest and dug his fingers into his neck. “What a shitty day.”
“You have no reason to be jealous.” Mal approached him slowly, searching his face as she did. When she drew even with him, she put her hand on his forearm. “You said last night we were still friends.”
“There’s that damn word again. Friends.” Gunnar spat out the word like it left a bad taste in his mouth. “How many friends do you have, Malin? How many men are you sleeping with? Besides me, I mean.”
She flinched at his shocking accusation. Confusion ruled for a moment, then understanding followed. She should be furious. That truly was the pot calling the kettle black. But she couldn’t summon a single angry feeling. Instead, her heart ached at the hurt lurking under his angry tone. Sympathy crowded out any other emotion. Did he think she was using him for sex the way the other women had?
“That’s what this is about? Gunnar, I have lots of friends. George and Noah are like brothers to me.” She caressed his jaw with her fingers. “You’re the only friend I ever want to have sex with. Making love to you was better because we had a relationship before we tumbled into bed together. There is no one else who can...who I’d want to occupy a place in my life as a friend and lover.”
She continued to stroke her fingers along his jaw, across the popping muscle. She moved to his mouth, smoothing the seam defined by his compressed lips. She caressed them until he relaxed enough to rest the tip of her finger between them. He swallowed hard then touched his tongue to the digit. Damp heat rushed between her legs. This is what she’d c
raved all day.
Letting a smile spread slowly across her face, she continued. “Gunnar, I’d never let any of my other friends do the kinds of things you do to me. The kind of thing I hope you’re eager to repeat.”
Setting his hands to her waist, he leaned against the desk, spread his legs, and drew her forward. Stepping between his thighs, her belly brushed against the hard ridge of his erection. Her insides melted, followed by her heart when he grinned at her, a quicksilver flash of desire in his eyes.
“You mean, like this?” Pushing the edge of her sweater away, he lowered his mouth to her collarbone.
Her nipples tightened at the first brush of his lips. When he bit the flesh at the base of her neck, a strong erotic pull between her legs answered. He licked his way up her neck, and she moaned in anticipation. She wanted more. Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she pressed her hips forward and tipped her chin toward the ceiling, exposing more of her skin to his seeking lips and teeth. “Yeah, something like that.” Her words had come out a breathy sigh.
“Or, maybe you’d prefer this.” He kissed his way along her jaw toward the tender skin behind her ear. He began plucking her sweater’s tiny pearly buttons from their openings. Each graze of his fingers down her breasts served to harden her nipples to sensitive peaks. When he’d undone half of them, he stopped to run his hands inside, brushing over the lace of her bra, cupping her, squeezing gently. His fingers were fire on her flesh when he slipped under the edge and found her nipple. Oh, God, she wanted his mouth on her breast. She wanted it now.
Fisting her fingers in his hair, she pulled his head toward her then sealed her lips over his. When his hands closed over the cheeks of her butt, pulling her hard against his cock, she moaned and ground her hips to his. She pulled her lips from his. “So far, I’ve liked everything you’ve done. What else you got?”
“I’ve got this.” He snagged the hem of her sweater and pulled it up until he swept it over her head and tossed it to the side. He brushed the backs of his hands over her nipples until her insides clenched with need. Desire, and the need to feel his fingers on her, and in her, pulsed in her center.
He unhooked her bra and drew it down her arms, throwing it on top of her sweater. Her breasts ached when he cupped and lifted them. Lowering his mouth closer to the peak, he hesitated, licked one tip, then blew a hot breath over the moisture. Had anything ever felt so incredibly erotic? His lips finally closed on her, gently sucking. Wrapping her arms around his head, she arched her back to give him better access. Each tug of his lips or teeth echoed with a pull in her womb.
He licked his way back up her chest until he reached her mouth, then kissed her—an open-mouthed, greedy, deeply passionate consumption of her lips. Colors flared behind her eyelids, swirling like prisms in sunlight.
He moved enough to release the button on her jeans. After toying with it for a moment, he lowered the zipper. Dipping his hand under the edge of her panties, he sought and found her clit. Her hips jerked in response to the pressure of his finger rubbing a sensuous circle. Her knees turned to jelly as fire raced within, threatening to consume her.
“Gunnar, please...” Dear God, she was going to beg. “I need you inside me right now. Please.”
His sexy chuckle filled the air. “If you insist.”
His hands were impatient as he shoved the heavy denim down her legs. She braced herself on his shoulders as he untied the brogues she wore. While he plucked the laces on the left shoe with his right hand, he dedicated his attention to her leg by nipping the inside of her thigh. He slid his left hand upward until it brushed against the silk of her panties. It didn’t matter that her jeans were bunched around her knees when he stroked between her legs. All that was important was the erotic pleasure bolting from her pussy to her heart. He worked her shoe off her foot. He tossed it away with a thud, then stroked his thumb over the tiny button between her folds. Thought ceased, feeling took over.
When he slipped his index finger under the lacy edge of her panties and pushed it inside her, she bit her lip, barely containing her moan.
“Oh God, Gunnar. I need more.”
A second digit joined the first, stroking, petting. He pulled his fingers out. She whimpered her protest.
He stood up and lifted her in the air, cradling her to his chest as he carried her to the sofa on the far wall. Her jeans dangled off one leg, but she was beyond caring how ridiculous it might look. The cushions gave when he set her down on the edge. His hands on her shoulders, he gently pushed her backward against the pillows. He kissed her belly, then darted his tongue into her navel, before he dragged her other shoe off and peeled away her jeans.
As soon as he had her stripped naked, he unbuttoned his shirt, tugging impatiently at the cuffs to free his hands. Hunger and desire transformed his expression to hot, hot, hot.
His chest was a work of art seen through the haze of her desire. Sculpted, well defined, barely an ounce of anything other than lean muscle. His abs rippled when he twisted to the side to toss the shirt away. He opened his belt and slipped the top button of his trousers free. Mal’s fingers itched to touch, but when she reached for him, he circled her wrists and pushed her arms to the side. Laying his hands on her thighs, he pulled her forward so she reclined on the edge of the couch. He knelt between her thighs and pulled her legs over his shoulders, bracing his hands on her ass to lift her hips. Her head bumped against the cushions. Using his thumbs, he spread her open, flicking her clit. She squeaked when his tongue delved into her. Her vision tunneled as pulses of electricity rose like an early evening tide, washing her in delicious sensation. His breath was heated, his tongue hotter. The stubble on his cheeks itched where it rubbed her inner thighs. She lifted her hips toward his mouth and squeezed her knees together around his neck. He licked, nibbled, and tongued her until she trembled with need.
“Oh my, God. Gunnar, I can’t... I’m going to come. Please, I want you in me.”
“Hang on, Daisy Mae.” He stood, taking a second to kick off his shoes. After lowering his zipper, he swept his trousers and boxer-briefs down his long, muscular legs in one smooth motion. His erection bobbed against his flat stomach. He bent to retrieve his wallet from the back pocket and dug through, muttering until he found what he sought. He held his hand aloft, a bright blue foil packet pinched between his index and middle finger. The wallet bounced when he dropped it to the floor.
Before he could rip the package open, Mal slid off the couch and ended up on her knees in front of him. He sucked in a deep breath when she grasped his shaft. She ran her fingers from root to tip, following along with her lips. Cupping his balls, she kissed the bead of pre-cum from the head, then surrounded the tip with her lips. His gasp was sharp in the otherwise quiet room. After she swirled her tongue over the velvety smooth head, she sucked him deeper into her mouth. His hips jerked forward, and he buried his fists in her hair, urging her to a faster motion. He tensed and thrust his hips again.
“Mal. Malin, wait. I love what you’re doing, but not like this. I need... Oh, hell.”
He pulled away from her ministrations. Wrapping his hot hands around her arms, he lifted her to her feet. Sealing his mouth to hers, he walked her backward until her knees hit the couch. He lowered her onto her back, then ripped the condom open and sheathed himself. In the next instant, he’d covered her with his hot, hard body. She drew her knees up and reveled when the tip of his cock prodded her opening, the pressure increasing until he thrust into her, filling and stretching.
He pulled back until he’d almost left her body, then surged forward, setting a fast, electric pace. Her breath hitched with each long dizzying stroke. Each time he moved into her, his chest slid against her breasts, the friction between their skin mimicking the massage of his cock within her. His pelvis brushed her clit—the erotic pressure almost too much to bear. Every stroke pushed her closer to the edge. Starlight popped behind her eyelids, and she moaned as she soared into a whirling vortex of feeling. Wrapping around him, she held on a
s his orgasm ripped through him at the same time as hers.
Gunnar collapsed on top of her, his sweat-covered torso a warm, heavy blanket. He continued to move within her, as if compelled by some unseen force. Each slide triggered aftershocks, which crested like a budding flower stretching toward the sun. His breath against her neck was hot, moist, and when his lips touched the skin under her jaw, the pleasure was intense.
“Oh, Daisy Mae. What you do to me.”
His words were slightly slurred. The lethargy in his voice matched that of her body. She chuckled, and he groaned, flexing his hips one final time against hers, seating himself deep, then holding steady while he trailed his lips along her jaw.
She swept her fingers along his spine, from his neck to the crest of his butt. “I can’t believe we did this in your office. What if someone had come in?”
“We’re the only people in the building right now.” He pushed up to his elbows and looked into her face, brushing his fingers along her brow. “We could do this in the hot tub next if we wanted. Do you?”
“Never been much of a hot tub gal.”
“Or we could always just go again here. It’s comfortable.” He captured her lips, thrusting his tongue into her mouth suggestively.
When he came up for air, she smiled. “Or we could find a bed. But maybe we could save that for tomorrow. For now, I have to get home to Gaby. I kind of promised I’d watch a movie with her tonight. You want to join us?”
A pleased smile lit his face. “Really? Yeah, I’d like that.”
He lifted his body off hers, the suction of his withdraw every bit as erotic as the pressure of his entry. She remained motionless, enjoying the pulsing aftereffects while Gunnar stumbled to his feet. He stripped off the condom, pulled a tissue from the box on his desk, wrapped it up and dropped the wad into the trashcan alongside his desk.
He pulled on his boxer-briefs and adjusted the elastic over his still engorged penis. Maybe she should have agreed to the hot tub. Seemed like a shame to waste what he was willing to share.
Bed Of Roses (The Five Senses Series Book 4) Page 19
